“The Party Guy?” I grin.
“Could you please tell us why they call you the Party Guy?”
He smiles sheepishly.
“I guess it’s because I like to party, Mr. Daley.”
“Were you partying the night you saw Ms. Kennedy kiss Mr. Friedman atthe bar?”
“I guess you could say that.”
“And did you have a glass of wine or two that night?”
“Probably.”
“How many glasses of wine?”
“Several.”
“More than two?”
“Probably.”
“More than three?”
“Maybe.”
“Enough so that you wouldn’t have gotten behind the wheel of a car thatnight?”
“Yeah.”
“So, when you saw Ms. Kennedy kiss Mr. Friedman, you may have beenintoxicated.”
“I don’t think so.”
“You had at least four glasses of wine. Your memory of that night maybe a little cloudy.”
“Maybe.”
“Now, let’s talk about the incident on Saturday afternoon where you sawMs.
Kennedy and Mr. Friedman in the hot tub. Could you tell us where thehot tub was located?”
“Near one of the pools at Silverado.”
“And you just happened to be walking by the pool?”
“Yes.”
“And you walked right by the hot tub and you saw Ms. Kennedy kissingMr.
Friedman?”
“Not exactly. I was walking down a path that leads to the golfcourse.”
“How far was the path from the pool?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Ballpark figure, Mr. Hutchinson. Fifty feet? A hundred feet? Thelength of a football field?”
He darts a glance at Skipper.
“Maybe the length of a football field.”
“Really? From a hundred yards, you were able to see Mr. Friedman andMs.
Kennedy kissing?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re sure the top of Ms. Kennedy’s bikini had beenunfastened?”
“Yes. I’m sure.”
“You must have really good eyes, Mr. Hutchinson.”
“Objection. Move to strike.”
“The jury will ignore Mr. Daley’s remark.”
I leave it at that.
“I don’t suppose you were standing in the same place when you saw themin the hot tub later that night,” “As a matter of fact, I was standingin almost the same place.”
“I see. So, late at night, from a hundred yards away, you were able toidentify Mr. Friedman and Ms. Kennedy in the hot tub. You were alsoable to determine that they were kissing. And you were able todetermine that they were naked. Is that about it?”
“Yes.”
“Did they get out of the hot tub?”
“No.”
“Were the jets on?”
“I think so.”
“Weren’t there bubbles in the hot tub?”
He’s starting to look a little older now. I can see the lines on hisforehead.
“Probably.”
I look at the jury.
“If it was night and they didn’t get out and the jets were on and therewere bubbles in the hot tub, how in the world were you able todetermine that they were both naked?”
He takes a deep breath.
“I saw them. I could tell.”
It’s his story, and he’s sticking to it.
“Mr. Hutchinson,” I say, “you realize that what you’ve just told us isutterly preposterous, don’t you?”
“Objection.”
“Sustained.”
I look directly at Hutch.
“No further questions. Next he’ll say he saw them in a hot tub whilehe was flying over Silverado in a hot-air balloon.” I get a fewchuckles.
Judge Chen pounds her gavel.
“Enough. The jury will disregard Mr. Daley’s last remark.”
At eight o’clock the same night, I’m at my mom’s house meeting withPete. Mom’s having one of her not-so-good nights. We sit at thedining room table. She clears Pete’s plate and says to me, “You didn’tfinish all your carrots. Tommy.
No dessert until you do.”
“I will, Mama. Right away.”
She walks into the kitchen. Pete shrugs.
“She’ll be back in a few minutes.
Sometimes she spends a little while in the fifties. Then she comesback.”
“It’s getting worse, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
“Look, Pete, if we need to get you some help…”
“Not yet.” He coughs.
“Not yet.” He takes a drink of water.
“How did things go at court today?”
“Not great.”
He cuts himself a piece of French bread.
“So I gather.”
I finish my carrots.
“Have you found anything else on Russo?”
“The trail goes cold at the international terminal at SFO. One personsaid she thought he might have gone to Hong Kong, but nobody on theflight crew recognized his picture. If he’s flying on a fake passport,it’s going to be tough to find him.”
“Shit.”
“We may not be the only people looking for him. He had some coinvestors from Saudi on a few deals. They aren’t real happy that hedisappeared. They’re looking for him, too. We haven’t found anythingelse, though.”
“What about the banker in the Bahamas?”
“Still in Kuwait. Longer than expected—he won’t be back for anothercouple of weeks. Wendy and I are going to pay him a visit as soon ashe is.”
“Good.” I pause.
“Has Wendy been helpful?”
“Yeah. She’s great.” He looks at the picture of my dead brother Tommyin his Cal football uniform, frozen in time at the age of twenty. Peteand Tommy look almost identical, except Tommy was taller and Pete has amustache.
“Mike, is she, well, seeing anybody?”
Unlike Rosie, who is all too familiar with my crush on Wendy, Petedoesn’t have a clue. Let’s just say it never came up in conversation.I’d like to tell him he’s out of luck and that I have dibs. Instead, Isay, “I don’t think so.”
“Do you think she’d have any interest?”
“I’m not sure. She’s been divorced a couple of times.”
His eyes dart.
“Then again,” I say, “you’ll never know if you don’t ask.” I decide tochange the subject.
“Did you get anything from Nick Hanson on the mystery woman at theFairmont?”
“He hasn’t been able to ID her. The people at the Fairmont couldn’t,either.”
We keep coming up empty.
“Did Nick think it was Diana?”
“He was pretty sure it wasn’t. The woman had longer hair. Nick’s realgood on details like that. He thought it might have been a hooker.”
“Does he have any ideas?”
“Just one. But he said it was just a wag.”
“A wag?”
“Yeah. W-A-G. Wild-ass guess. Guess who was making an appearance atthe Fairmont that night?”
“The mayor?”
“Get serious. Somebody more famous.”
“Come on, Pete, I’m tired.”
“Dr. Kathy Chandler.”
I sit back in my chair.
“You don’t really think? No. It couldn’t.”
He smiles.
“We shouldn’t jump to any conclusions. I did some checking on Dr.
Kathy. She’s very single. She’s had a little trouble with longtermrelationships. She fits the description.”
“But is there any real evidence she was with Bob that night?”
“Nope. Like I said. It’s just Nick’s wild-ass guess.”
At the moment, Nick the Dick’s wild-ass guess is the only lead wehave.
CHAPTER 37
AND WAS YOUR MARRIAGE A HAPPY ONE?
“In what promises to be an emotional moment, the widow of Robert Holmeswill take the stand today.”
—news center 4 LEGAL ANALYST morgan henderson. thursday, march 26.
The next morning is a Thursday. Skipper calls Beth Holmes to thestand. In lieu of her customary gray business suit, she’s wearing alight blue dress with a tiny gold chain and a small brooch. Today,she’ll be playing the role of grieving widow instead of legalbarracuda.
“My name is Elizabeth Barnes Holmes,” she says after she’s sworn in.
“Robert Holmes was my husband.”
Skipper has set up the pictures of Bob and Diana in front of the jury.It’s contrived, but he’s going to play to their heartstrings today.
“How long were you and Bob married?” Using his first name is a nicetouch.
“Five and a half years.” Skipper has her describe how she and Bob met,the children, the vacations to the Italian Riviera and the mansion inPresidio Terrace. The idyllic power marriage between power partners atpower law firms.
She doesn’t mention her divorce from Art Patton.
Skipper turns serious.
“And was your marriage a happy one, Mrs. Holmes?”
She gets a faraway look in her eyes.
“Yes. At least until recently.”
Skipper nods thoughtfully.
“And then what happened, Mrs. Holmes?”
“He became distant. I began to suspect he was seeing another woman.”
“Was he?” he asks gently.
“Yes. He was having an affair with Diana Kennedy.”
Murmurs in the back of the courtroom.
Skipper moves closer to her.
“How did you find out about the affair, Mrs.
Holmes?”
“I hired a private investigator. He found them in bed together inearly December.” She holds her head high.
“I confronted Bob. I told him he had to break off the affair, or I’dleave him.”
“What happened?”
“He broke up with her.” She doesn’t hide her disdain.
“A few weeks later, my private eye found them together again. Idecided to end our marriage. I was there when he was served onDecember thirtieth.”
“Mrs. Holmes, was your husband upset when he was served with thedivorce papers?”
“Objection. State of mind.”
“Overruled.”
“He took it pretty well. He’d been divorced several times.”
“Do you think he was so upset that he may have been driven tosuicide?”
“Objection. Speculative.”
“Overruled.”
“No. He took it in stride. I think he was relieved when I filed thepapers.”
I glance at Diana’s mother in the gallery. She closes her eyes.
Skipper cringes only slightly.
“No further questions.”
“Mrs. Holmes,” I say, “what time was your husband served with divorcepapers?”
“About five-thirty in the evening.”
“And who was present when he was served?”
“A bunch of people. They were all in the main conference room atSimpson and Gates.”
“What was your husband doing when he was served?”
She scowls.
“I believe he was on the telephone.”
“Wasn’t he sitting in a room with his client and a group of attorneys?And weren’t they in negotiations on a significant businesstransaction?”
“Yes.”
“Isn’t it a fact that he barely looked up when you and your processserver walked in because he was in heated negotiations on amultimillion-dollar deal?”
“I was barely able to get his attention.”
“So, it’s not really surprising that he didn’t react when he saw you,is it?”
“He knew what was going on.”
I take a step back.
“Did he look at the papers your process server handed him?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“Briefly.”
“You mean he may have glanced at them.”
“He knew what the papers were.”
“The fact is, Mrs. Holmes, your husband had very little reaction tothe papers because he was concentrating on his deal and he expected youto file the papers. Isn’t that true?”
Skipper leaps up.
“Objection. Argumentative.”
“Sustained. Move along, Mr. Daley.”
“Mrs. Holmes, did your husband carry any life insurance?”
“Objection. Relevance.”
“Overruled.”
She says Bob carried a five-million-dollar policy naming herself asbeneficiary, and a milliondollar policy for each of the kids.
“Have you received the proceeds from the policies yet?”
“No. The insurance company is working on the claim. They’re veryslow.”
I’ll bet. I’m sure the insurance company is hoping it’s a suicide.Then they won’t have to pay anything.
“Did it occur to you that your husband might change the beneficiariesif you were divorced?”
“Objection. Speculative.”
“Overruled.”
“Of course, Mr. Daley. I fully expected it.” She gives me her“bigfirm evil litigator” look.
“And if you’re suggesting I had some incentive to see my husband dead,you’re out of your mind.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see the phone company supervisor nod.I’ve gone a little too far. I have to remember that she’s the grievingwidow.
“Mrs.
Holmes,” I say, “do you know the names of the beneficiaries of yourhusband’s will?”
“I get a third, the children get a third and the balance goes to acharity in the Bahamas.”
“Did it occur to you that he may have decided to change his will afteryou got divorced?”
“Of course, Mr. Daley.” Then she adds, gratuitously, “I don’t needthe money, you know.”
“One last item. You said your investigator found your husband and Ms.Kennedy together in late December.”
“That’s correct.”
“Where did that incident occur?”
“At a room in the tower of the Fairmont Hotel.”
“I see. And how did your investigator find out about it?”
“He was viewing the room from a building across the street.”
“Did your investigator positively identify Diana Kennedy in the roomwith your husband?”
“He told me he thought it was Diana. He said the woman looked likeDiana.”
“But he wasn’t sure.”
“He was sure it wasn’t me.”
“I understand. But isn’t it true, Mrs. Holmes, that he wasn’t able topositively identify the woman in the room with Mr. Holmes thatnight?”
“That may be true.”
“And it’s possible that it wasn’t Ms. Kennedy.”
“Yeah. It’s possible. What difference does it make, Mr. Daley?”
Thanks, Beth.
“I’m sorry to make you relive these difficult times, Mrs.
Holmes,” I say. She’s given me what I need.
“No further questions.”
CHAPTER 38
HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN A PRACTICING THERAPIST?
“KTLK’s very own Dr. Kathy Chandler will be testifying today at themurder trial of Joel Mark Friedman. Dr. Kathy Chandler will be ableto tell you all about it in her regular time slot at seven tonight.”
—KTLK TALK RADIO. thursday, march 26. 11:45 A.M.
We’re standing just outside the courtroom at one o’clock when Dr. KathyChandler and her entourage arrive. She has just finished an impromptupress conference in the corridor. She is surrounded by cameras andmicrophones as she and her handlers inch their way down the hall. Shetowers over most of the reporters. Her long blond hair flows. Shestops and faces the assembled media horde. She brushes her handagainst her hair and flashes the smile that graces Muni buses all overtown.
“Dr. Chandler, what are you going to talk about today?”
“Dr. Chandler, do you think Robert Holmes killed himself?”
“Dr. Chandler, was Mr. Holmes having an affair with Diana Kennedy?”
“Dr. Chandler? Dr. Chandler? Dr. Chandler?”
“I’m sorry, fellows,” she purrs.
“I don’t want to be late for court. I don’t want the judge to get madat me.” Big smile.
“I’ll talk to you again after I’m done.” She walks into thecourtroom.
Skipper walks Dr. Kathy Chandler through her credentials, such asthey are. I interrupt frequently. After the ordeal is concluded,Skipper says, “How long did you know Robert Holmes?”
She smiles.
“I began treating him in September. I was his therapist for aboutthree months.”
“And what were you treating him for, Doctor?”
“You know,” she coos, “I usually don’t talk about my patients’problems.” She bats her eyes.
Skipper smiles like Robert Young in Father Knows Best.
“I know. But your testimony is very important. If you’reuncomfortable answering a question, let me know, and we’ll talk it overwith Judge Chen.”
Who will be more than happy to lock you up for contempt. Then you’llhave the honor of being the first person to initiate a radio broadcastfrom the new jail at the Hall. Judge Chen looks at Dr. Kathy.